For Moral Support
by Working-On-Sanity
Summary: Doofenshmirtz is having dinner with a girl. Perry thought earlier that the best thing for Doofenshmirtz would be a date with a nice girl, but now, he knows better. Dates - they're the most boring thing ever, especially since Perry is just along to give Doofenshmirtz some moral support. Slight Doofenshmirtz/Perry.


**Note: **I'm writing a few Perryshmirtz prompts to practice and improve my writing.

* * *

The girl is pretty. Even Perry has to admit that she is. Her hair looks soft, falling fluffy around her face in a puff of cloud-like curls. She smiles every time Doofenshmirtz says something, and this, more than anything else about her, annoys Perry immensely. Perry isn't sure if she does not understand, or if she is amused by Doofenshmirtz.

The woman and Doofenshmirtz have been talking for over an hour. To realize that two people can chatter for so long about absolutely nothing of importance amazes Perry. He understands but little of the conversation; few words are familiar to him. A pang of regret pushes upwards against his small ribs as he considers this. Has most of his knowledge of the human language come from many hours of listening to Doofenshmirtz ramble?

Perry sighs heavily, loudly enough for Doofenshmirtz to hear. Upon evoking no reaction, the space between Perry's eyes wrinkles in a scowl. He slouches, allowing his stiff shoulders to relax, and begins patting the pad of his paw against his knee. He soon tires of this amusement, and idly raises his paw to examine the small webs between his fingers.

He glances over at the table around which Doofenshmirtz and the woman sit. Their food is still untouched. The wrapper is still crumpled around the hamburger Doofenshmirtz bought, and the bun looks greasy. It has grown cold; likely Doofenshmirtz will offer it to Perry, as if he had intended to give it to him all along.

Perry folds his arms over the tabletop and dejectedly rests his bill on the backs of his paws. He gazes vacantly out the window, watching with little interest as cars zip up the winding road, one after another, going so fast they blend into one never-ending stream of metallic colors. The white beams of the headlights cut brilliantly into the night for a fleeting instant before being replaced by another.

Perry notices the oily prints that have been left on the window by the hands of children, and he thinks instantly of his family. Had he been less kind, less caring, less considerate, he would be snuggled in bed by now. He can almost feel the warmth of fleece blankets wrapped around him, and the comforting weight of Phineas's arm draped over his back.

But no––he isn't warm nor comfortable. The late night air is crisp and ghosts through the restaurant when someone opens the doors. The breeze creeps beneath his fur to make every hair and whisker prickle. He feels drowsy, and his stomach twists with hunger.

On impulse, he tips up his head to squint at the clock. Contrary to what his boss believes, Perry can't tell time by reading numbers. He looks at the clock and gauges the space between the hands. He estimates the time to be many, many minutes after dinner.

In a gesture he has seen many times and understands as one of exasperation, Perry slides his fingers beneath his fedora and scrapes them through his tufts of hair. A few people turn to stare at him, and he self-consciously keeps his eyes fixed on the wall. He huddles a bit lower against the bench, and wonders just how much longer Doofenshmirtz will talk to his date.

At last, Perry hears Doofenshmirtz's voice over the buzz of a dozen other voices. He says a long string of words from which Perry catches a "see you soon" and a "maybe the day after tomorrow?"

Perry smiles slightly with relief and leaps from the bench to the floor. He throws himself into a stretch, arching his back in an oddly catlike manner. On all fours, he spreads his legs to brace himself for a thorough shake. He feels the tension draining from his tightened muscles. Finally he can go home.

He stands up and weaves his way between the tables to the door. A waitress raises her eyebrow at him curiously, but he ignores her. He pauses at the door, his paw lightly touching the glass––did someone call him? He holds his breath, waiting.

"Perry the Platypus! Hey, where did you go?"

Willingly Perry returns to Doofenshmirtz's table, somewhat glad that he didn't escape without being noticed. He stops by Doofenshmirtz's large foot and reaches up to tug on the leg of Doofenshmirtz's pants. Startled, Doofenshmirtz looks down, then grins with delight.

"Oh, _there _you are," he says, quite obviously happy. He bends down and places his big hand on Perry's tiny one, gently prying Perry's fingers from his pants' leg. "Were you going to _leave _me, Perry the Platypus? I was going to buy you a hamburger."

Perry rolls his eyes at the worthless courtesy, but his whiskers twitch with pleasure. He isn't bothered by Doofenshmirtz's treating him as though he is a person. In fact, he rather enjoys it.

"_Any_way," Doofenshmirtz says, straightening back up, "I wanted you to meet my new girlfriend. What's with that expression––you weren't expecting that, were you? Well, it's true. Isn't it?"

He directs the last question to the girl with whom he has been dining this whole time. She nods politely, but her gaze remains fastened on Perry. Nervously, Perry lifts his fedora in a gentlemanly greeting that he knows always impresses women.

"This is Perry. Perry the Platypus," Doofenshmirtz says. He extends his arms toward Perry as if introducing a hefty prize on a television game show. His grin hangs in place as he anticipates his new "girlfriend's" response.

The girl now appears mildly uneasy. She keeps staring at Perry, even as she asks, "That's a platypus?"

Doofenshmirtz suddenly understands that his girlfriend is not at all enthusiastic. He lets his long arms dangle uselessly at his sides. "Um... yeah. It's his _name, _you know. Perry the _Platypus_. Actually, I'm not sure anymore if that's his real name or if I gave it to him. But I do like the reiteration with the letter _p. _It sounds nice, you know."

The girl nods again, but this time, more stiffly. "I... I'm not that keen on animals."

"Perry the Platypus isn't a––" Doofenshmirtz trails off. "All right, he _is _an animal, I guess. But he doesn't _act_ like it. In fact, he's more well-mannered than some people I know. If you can get over how _funny_ he looks––no offense, Perry the Platypus––he's actually a really great guy."

"Is it your pet?" The girl protectively hitches her purse higher up her shoulder, as if she fears Perry will somehow attempt to snatch the silk handkerchief that peeks from beneath the flap. "I mean, do you usually keep it at home, or does it follow you?"

"Perry the Platypus is _not _my pet," Doofenshmirtz says, growing just slightly testy. "We're enemies! He's my one and only nemesis. He isn't like my _dog _or anything. But," he says hesitantly, "we do stay together a lot. He's my best friend, too. He's a lot of things, all right? But definitely _not _a _pet._"

"Your enemy, nemesis, and best friend is a platypus?" For some reason, the girl seems unable to recover from the fact that Perry is indeed a platypus. She gives a high-pitched, anxious giggle. "I didn't think platypuses do much."

Doofenshmirtz scoffs amiably. "I don't know where _you_ come from, then. See, Perry the Platypus is an agent. He's _really _good at his job. He has to be, because he stops me from building my -inators practically every day. He's smart, too. And I'd like to visit whatever _gym _he goes to, because he sure does pack a wallop into those teensy little fists, if you get what I'm saying."

"You two fight?" The girl looks horrified, and this amuses Perry. Her eyes slowly crinkle at the corners, and she smiles hopefully. "You're kidding, aren't you? Ha. I knew it. I knew you're a funny guy."

Any other man would seize this chance and allow his girlfriend to misunderstand, but Doofenshmirtz is at times hasty to be insulted.

"What?" he asks. "You don't believe me?"

The girl's smile fades. "So... you're serious."

"Completely! It's the truth, I'm telling you. I have some _bruises _I could show you, but this _is _just our first date."

The girl helps herself to a generous step away from Perry. The chunky heel of her shoe nearly catches in the rung of a chair, and she quickly disentangles herself. Perry looks up at Doofenshmirtz; seeing the hurt confusion on his face, Perry cups his paw over his bill to cover his grin. He knows exactly what the girl is thinking: _This man is either a very convincing actor, or very insane. _Perry has learned from experience that, while some men can tolerate delusional women, rarely does it happen in reverse.

Perry isn't sure why so many people can't fully comprehend his relationship with Doofenshmirtz. Is the only purpose of animals to be pets? Perry has always felt rather stifled by that one binding chore. Why, there are other career options.

"What's wrong?" Doofenshmirtz asks, and Perry hears the thick disappointment in his voice. "It's not like Perry the Platypus and I are attached at the hip."

Perry waits for Doofenshmirtz to add that Perry is too short for such a notion, but Doofenshmirtz never does. The girl interrupts, polite as ever.

"I just don't care for animals, especially not ones that are, um, secret agents. I'd hate to keep you away from your best friend just because of my silly phobias." Here she waves her hand, and a ring on her finger catches the light.

"No! Can't we make a compromise? I mean, we just met, and––"

The girl begins walking away, but smiles sympathetically. "Maybe some other time, okay? I'll feel better without that thing watching me."

"And by _thing_, she means _you. _Doesn't she, Perry the Platypus." Doofenshmirtz sighs dejectedly, his narrow shoulders drooping. "I thought bringing you along would give me a little moral su_pport. _I didn't think an introduction would ruin my chances at romance again."

He gazes down at Perry, his eyes softer. "I guess it isn't com_pletely _your fault. Maybe it's totally me. Girls always leave, but you haven't. I should be thankful for _that, _at least, I suppose."

Perry stretches up, swinging his arm gently as he tries to grab Doofenshmirtz's curled finger. He misses; then gives up. Doofenshmirtz observes for a moment before grinning, a bit of his cheer returning.

"In a lot of ways, you're better than a woman, Perry the Platypus," he remarks. "_You _can't talk back."He lowers his hand far enough for Perry to rest his paw on his palm, but now that the opportunity is offered, Perry refuses. Doofenshmirtz chuckles.

"No hand-holding? Okay. That was my last girlfriend's rule, too. All right. Hey, do you want that hamburger?"

Perry shakes his head in amazement. Doofenshmirtz can always recover quickly. He allows Doofenshmirtz to press the hamburger into his paws, wondering what will keep him awake longest tonight: eating so late, or that hand-holding nonsense.

* * *

**Note: **I've lost count of how many times Perry and Doofenshmirtz have held hands.


End file.
